Blondes
by blossom-angel-child
Summary: Not sure what it'll be yet but there'll be Sebastian and Carrie and George and some dramaaa :P and some lemons all going well


I always hated this feeling. The one you get when things go awry. And even if Maggie thinks otherwise- I know this is wrong, not right. Sebastian came round on thanksgiving and I genuinely wanted to be there for him in a time of need such that it was. I know what it's like to need your mum, even if our situations are more or less completely different.

But then my dad went to bed. My sister went to her room- though I suspect she snuck out to smoke God knows what. Mouse and Mags high tailed it home and then it was just us. I hadn't meant for it to be like this. I hadn't meant it- but I'll admit I'd wished it when we were dating; that we would be alone like this.

"So this is your room." He walked around glancing about the walls the way he typically did anything; with complete elegance. Always the cool one.

I suspect this wasn't the first girls bedroom he'd wandered at 1am.

"You can sleep on my bed if you want. You probably don't wanna go home." He looked up at me, eye brows lifting slightly- though at which of my comments I'm unsure.

"Hello Kitty?" He smiled.

"Yep." No doubt Dorrit had been the one to replace all the evidence of my childishness. "I'd tried to hide them earlier actually. Didn't want-"

"-Your new boyfriend to see them?"

My turn to smile. At least conversation was always comfortable with Sebastian. I didn't feel stressed or embarrassed about anything. It probably helped that we weren't dating anymore though. Now it was just two friends joking around- or I think so... I thought so anyway.

"It's... cute." He turned his back to me, continuing his perusal of the miscellaneous ornaments until his gaze landed on a photo of my mother. "She's beautiful."

"Yeah." I like the way he used that tense, the way i often catch myself speaking of her as well. "She was."

We were closer now. No step between us as he inhaled and brought a hand through his hair. Always the cool one. I'd lost myself, for a moment, in the sweetness of a memory, and when I went to step the fair pace backwards I was caught off guard by his hand on my shoulder.

The hand moved to my neck and I looked up. At his eyes, staring unreadably into mine, at his mouth, hoping he'd say something to make me less confused.

"Bradshaw."

I was no less confused. "Yeah?"

I don't know if it was the time of night, that perhaps I was too weakened by fatigue to resist. That sounds like an excuse. More likely it was the dominant way he stood, leaning to look down on me, one hand on my nape, the other making it's way up my side. Maybe the way his lips parted as he came closer or the gentle look on his face. I became so uncaring in that instant as to any consequence. Suddenly I didn't mind the world and only wanted one thing. I closed my eyes and the world disappeared, my only connection to reality; his lips and his hands and the heat from his chest. Passion comes from nowhere, and when you least expect it, though this passion stemmed from weeks or months of burgeoning sexual tension that might finally have manifested the way one or both of us had been waiting for it to.

Am I this girl right now? The one who kisses a boy just because he kisses her.

I put my hands up. He noticed straight away and he leaned back, eyes still half closed, though I recognized something like remorse in them.

"I'm..."

"It's okay."

"No. I'm sorry Carrie." He stepped back. "Not that we kissed. That I kissed you without asking."

I didn't know what to say or do. My hands were still raised which I realized might have seemed rude, so I dropped them. I meant no discontent. I was happy. I think. But this was definitely not right.

"No I'm sorry. You have a girlfriend. I have a boyfrie-"

"I know. I know." He cut me off and the hand that felt so good on my back pressed into his forehead. "I'm not like this. I promise I don't do this sort of thing normally."

"I know Sebastian. You're a good person. It's not your fault." I took a step closer again. "We have a little history... so I think we both have some residual feelings."

I always try to explain things. A typical girl- thinking words in a great number will solve a problem. He smirked then and stuffed his hands in his pockets, shoulders slouching in a stance that suggested he felt more awkward about it than I did.

"I think I still... want to be with you." And the typical boy- upfront and honest. No word play. No trying to explain away feelings or understand.

He looked at me. For the millionth time that night and no words came to mind for the first time in a long time.

"You don't want to be with me?" He moved closer again.

I wasn't sure what to say. I stayed quiet.

When he finally was back in a position of power over me, I felt myself re-lose my will to escape. "I..."

He kissed me again. With equal passion as the first. "I miss hanging out with you." He whispered before reengaging my mouth.

"I miss going to the pool and swimming together."

I felt frozen, the only hot part of me; my lips as they keenly received his, in between admissions.

"I miss corrupting you and getting you grounded..."

I was pushed back against my desk but nimble hands and quiet biceps picked me up and set me down on top of my homework assignment and notes.


End file.
